Can't Believe They Let You Roam Around Free
by trixietru
Summary: Lassiter has nice hands. Shawn/Lassiter, pre-slash.


Title: Can't Believe They Let You Roam Around Free

Pairing: Carlton Lassiter/Shawn Spencer

Disclaimer: I don't own Psych! Everything belongs to their respective owners. I promise to treat the boys nice and put them back where I found them. No copyright infringement intended.

Words: Approximately 2,500

Rating: PG? Definitely no more than a PG-13

Summary: Lassiter has nice hands.

Author's Note: This takes place in some nebulous time between the end of S2 and the middle of S3. Title is courtesy of the Liz Phair song "Jealousy".

Shawn is bored. Gus, the big traitor, isn't hanging out with him tonight because it's his mom's birthday. Shawn had offered to come along to liven up the party, but Gus had turned him down, saying something about it being a "Guster family night" and something else about Shawn being a "big attention hog", and also that his family is going to get the wrong idea about what kind of partners they are if Shawn tags along to every family event. Shawn doesn't understand because he would always prefer to have Gus along when he visits his dad, but he resigns himself to spending the evening alone.

If only he weren't so bored.

Also, hungry.

Maybe he should go out, get some dinner. Do a little people watching. Maybe see if he can find some available female companionship? That might be less-than-boring.

Okay. It's a plan.

He goes to a little pub he's been to a few times with Gus and Jules, not a singles bar, but a place where single people (like himself) might go. He's brought along a _Scientific America_ magazine from Gus's desk so that he has something to do if he can't find anyone to talk to, but he's not worried – he can ALWAYS find someone to talk to (though he is hoping for a chance to skim through the magazine, so that later, when Gus tries to impress him with facts from it, Shawn can annoy him by pretending like he's known all of those things for years). He's sitting at the end of the bar, sipping a vodka soda and waiting for his order of buffalo wings when he sees Lassiter sitting at a table on the far side of the restaurant, with a woman, a petite, curvy, pretty blonde. Shawn can tell they're on a date, probably a first date, judging from the body language.

Shawn checks Lassiter out with a sense of approval – no tie, shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled up, showing off his very nice forearms. He doesn't look relaxed, exactly, but he doesn't look like he's about to interrogate a suspect or go for his gun either, so it's an improvement on his usual demeanor. The woman he's with smiles at something he says and reaches across the table to cover his hand with hers, and WHOA, Lassie has big hands. Shawn knows that he knew that already, that he's actually held Lassiter's hands in his while having a "vision", and he's certainly had Lassiter's hands on him plenty of times, pulling him away from crime scenes and pushing him out of danger, but there's something about seeing that small, feminine hand resting on top of Lassie's that's kind of…hot.

Shawn shifts uncomfortably on his barstool, because suddenly he's imagining what it would look like to see those nice big hands sliding up, underneath his pretty date's skirt, cupping the sweet curve of her hips, his long fingers tugging down her panties…Shawn gulps, tears his eyes away from the couple and signals the bartender for another drink. He's always prided himself on his vivid imagination, but he can't fathom why he suddenly has a porn movie starring Lassiter and his date running through his head, and he'd like for it to stop please, except now he's picturing Lassie shoving him up against a wall with those big, strong hands (and when had Shawn replaced the pretty blonde in this fantasy?) and leaning in to whisper something vaguely dirty in his ear, something about how hot Shawn makes him, and then Shawn will be free to reach up and…huh.

Maybe his problem before wasn't so much that he was bored or hungry. Maybe he's just horny.

He casts his eyes around the bar looking for possible girls to chat up. The bartender is a cutie, but the way she's been flirting with one of the waitresses all night suggests that she's probably not going to go home with him tonight, though he can't rule her out. Maybe he should cast a wider net? There's a guy in a corner booth that Shawn wouldn't mind getting to know in a more up-close-and-personal sense, but inevitably Shawn's gaze is drawn back to Lassiter's table, where things don't seem to be going quite as well as they had been before. Lassie is shaking his head with a slightly strained smile, and his date looks exasperated, a feeling Shawn can commiserate with since he's often felt that way in Lassie's presence himself. After a moment she stands up, apparently excusing herself to the restroom. Shawn is startled when Lassiter looks over, directly at him, and then gets up to come over and stand next to him at the bar.

"Are you stalking me?" he demands, adding before Shawn can reply "And could you please stop staring at me and my date like some sort of pervert?"

Shawn mock gasps, clasping a hand to his heart, trying to hide his embarrassment at having been caught. "Awww, I'm flattered that you even noticed me! A beautiful woman sitting across from you and all you can think about is me! That's so sweet Lassie." He flutters his eyelashes girlishly "I think about you, too." Which is maybe a leeeetle too close to the truth given his earlier thoughts, but it's not like the other man can tell that he was imagining what it would feel like to have Lassiter shove him against a wall and kiss the hell out of him.

"So," he asks, "What went wrong?"

Lassiter scowls at him. "I don't know what you're talking about. Nothing's wrong."

"Please, Lassie" Shawn twirls his fingers next to his head to indicate his awesome psychic prowess "The spirits tell me that you've hit a pothole on the road to love. "

Lassiter sighs and seems to deflate a little "I think she's some kind of cop groupie. "

"What exactly does that mean? Is it anything like the summer I followed the Backstreet Boys around trying to get Nick Carter to notice me?"

"She keeps asking things like, um, if she can touch my gun and making…suggestive remarks about my handcuffs."

Shawn raises his eyebrows in amusement, while at the same time feeling a completely irrational stab of jealousy. As if just anyone should be allowed to touch Lassie's gun!

Lassiter is still talking about his handcuffs. "They're a serious criminal restraint tool, not a toy or…or some kind of sexual aide!" His scowl has deepened to a critical point.

Shawn pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. "If you like, I have some handcuffs you can borrow that are meant for recreational use. They're padded for her pleasure." He winks at Lassie and adds thoughtfully "Or yours".

Lassiter actually blushes, and Shawn is so delighted by this result that he's actually taken by surprise when they're interrupted.

"Carlton? Who's your friend?"

"Amanda! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there. We should get back to our table."

Since Lassie is clearly not going to introduce him, Shawn takes it upon himself to stretch his hand out to Amanda for her to shake, and says "I'm Shawn Spencer. I work with Detective Lassiter down at the station."

"Ohhh. " Her grip on his hand actually tightens "Are you a cop too?"

"I am the head psychic for the Santa Barbara Police Department" Shawn replies, ignoring the way Lassiter rolls his eyes. Amanda cocks her head with interest. "Do you carry a gun?"

"Noooo," Shawn laughs. "I leave the weaponry to my friend Lassie, here. I capture criminals using the powers of my mind, with assistance from the spirit world."

Amanda releases his hand, clearly disappointed. "That sounds…interesting, I guess. I just find police work – and police officers – so fascinating, you know?" As she speaks, her hand moves back to Lassiter, to stroke across his chest. Despite whatever misgivings he has about the date, Lassie has a silly half-smile on his face from her touch. Shawn feels his eyes narrow as an unfamiliar feeling seems to tighten around the vicinity of his heart. It must be indigestion, he reasons to himself, because there's absolutely no reason here for him to feel jealous. And anyway, it doesn't change what he has to do next, because this is for Lassie's own good.

"Oh!" he gasps, putting one hand to his head while placing the other directly over Amanda's hand on Lassiter's chest. "The spirits like your sense of romance, Amanda! They're telling me…Carlton's not the first cop you've ever dated, is he?"

"Spencer…" Lassiter growls in warning, but Shawn ignores him, as usual. Amanda looks delighted and intrigued to have the "spirits" interested in her. "That's right!" she says excitedly "My first husband was with the San Diego PD!"

"Oh?" Lassiter says "I didn't realize you'd been married before. I've been going through a divorce myself…", but Amanda keeps going.

"My second husband was a sheriff in Ventura County. My third husband was a rodeo clown." Her forehead creases slightly "That didn't work out so well. But my fourth husband was on a SWAT team! He had the best guns."

Lassiter's eyes have gotten comically wide, and Shawn feels the satisfaction of a job well done. He smiles warmly at Amanda. "The spirits really admire your persistence in matters of the heart. "

She lowers her eyes, looking a little embarrassed. "I like men who make me feel safe," she admits, and Shawn suddenly remembers why he so rarely ever lets himself be catty, because everyone has vulnerabilities and Amanda's are suddenly written all over her face.

"I completely understand," he says seriously "and who wouldn't feel safe with Detective Lassiter around? He's brimming with manly competence! However, the spirits would like for me to pass on a suggestion to you".

He rips a page out of the magazine he brought along (Gus is going to kill him) and snags a pen from behind the bar that he had seen the bartender use earlier. He flashes back to a flyer advertising a women's self defense course that he had seen earlier in the week at the police station and scribbles down the phone number, passing it to Amanda.

"You should call this number and find out what you can from them about safety. I'm getting very strong vibes off that number. I know it will change your life for the better!"

"Really?" Amanda asks, wide-eyed. "Thank you! I'll call it first thing tomorrow morning!"

She turns to Lassiter. "Should we go get some dinner now Carlton, or…"

She's interrupted by Shawn, who feels that weird sensation around his heart again as he sees her look up at Lassie with her big brown eyes. "Ohhhh" he moans, clutching his head and stumbling off his barstool. "I'm sensing violence! Blood!" He reaches out to grab Lassiter by the shoulders and pull him close, absently noting to himself how broad Lassie's shoulders are, and how nice the other man feels under his hands.

"There's been a terrible crime, Lassie! The spirits are saying – no, they're INSISTING – that you're the only one who can solve it! You're needed at the crime scene right away!" He puts his hand to his forehead and swoons against Lassie, resting his head against the detective's chest, which privately he thinks is probably going a little too far, but Amanda seems enthralled, and Lassiter feels so warm and solid that Shawn has no regrets.

"Oh my goodness, that was amazing! Carlton, you should go!"

Lassiter looks a little dazed, and despite the fact that Shawn's head is still resting against his chest he hasn't pushed him away, which Shawn finds very, very interesting. "Spencer if this…would you get off of me, please? If this is some sort of joke…" Shawn looks at him earnestly. "No joke! Of course, you can choose to ignore the spirits, but it would be at your own peril!"

Lassiter rubs a hand across his eyes. "I'm sorry Amanda, would you mind…?"

"Of course not! You have a job to do!" She reaches up to kiss him on the cheek, and wow, Shawn thinks, maybe he should go to a doctor, because that heart thing seems to be getting worse. "Thank you for a fascinating evening, Carlton. It was so good to meet you Mr. Spencer, and thank you again for this! " she says, holding up the phone number he gave her. She leaves, and Shawn realizes belatedly that he should have offered to walk her out, but she's already gone and now he's left with Lassiter, who turns to look at him skeptically.

"So, the location of this crime scene?"

Shawn sits back on his barstool, tries to look innocent and fails. "I'm sorry, Lassie. I think there's been a mistake. The spirits are telling me now that they were watching a _Scream_ marathon and got confused. Courtney Cox's hair in the second movie caused a psychic disturbance and they panicked."

"So you ruined my date for nothing."

"Um, I prefer to think of it as saving you from becoming Husband Number Five."

"It was just a date! I wasn't going to marry her!"

"Tonight," Shawn amends. "You weren't going to marry her tonight. All I did – with an assist from the nether realms - was save you both from making a tragic mistake further down the road, by nipping things in the bud now."

Lassiter sits down on the barstool next to Shawn and sighs. "What was the phone number you gave her?"

"It's for the self-defense course that Officer Hernandez teaches at the gym downtown. Maybe she can learn to feel safe on her own."

"That's…nice, actually" Lassiter admits, his forehead creasing in confusion, "but why do you have that number memorized?"

"Memorized?" Shawn scoffs "Noooo. It was the sp-"

"If you say "spirits" one more time tonight Spencer, I'm going to punch you."

"Fair enough. Since your date ended prematurely, I feel like I should make it up to you. Wanna go back to my place and play Wii bowling?"

Lassiter looks suspicious, which to be fair is kind of his default expression. "Is this some kind of trick, Spencer?"

"No trick! Come on, we can bowl a few games, or watch a movie. It'll be fun! "

"Fun" Lassiter echoes, as if the concept of fun, or at least fun with Shawn, is foreign to him.

"Yes, fun!" Shawn takes a deep breath, looks right into Lassiter's blue, blue eyes, and takes a chance "And if you're lucky, maybe I'll let you play with my handcuffs."

Lassiter hesitates just long enough for Shawn to stop breathing, then replies "Well then, what are we waiting for?"

Shawn can't stop the grin from spreading across his face as he takes Lassie by the arm to lead him home.


End file.
